Balancing Act
by Reinbeauchaser
Summary: A ninja must master his environment no matter what, even if you've lost a bet. Raph centric. A plot bunny I discovered from a commercial I saw online. Enjoy!


**Disclaimer – **After watching a rather humorous commercial on my favorite internet based 'toy', _Metacafe_, it gave me an idea for what I hope is a funny one-shot. Personally, I feel the angst in this brief story. Hope you do, too, but I also hope that it makes you smile, as well.

As always, I don't own anything, especially Jeopardy and the object in question, which will be revealed near the end of this missive.

Oh, and Raph has a Brooklyn accent, so I try to write his dialogue as thus.

As far as if the Jeopardy situation could happen between Raph and Don, just go with it, and believe. This is fiction, after all. LOL

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**Balancing Act**

"Com'on Raph, you can do better than that!" Leo encouraged. He was currently standing on one foot, which he tentatively had placed on the top end of a six-inch wide wooden post. The post stood approximately six feet tall and imbedded into the concrete ground. Currently, they were in a part of their home that they had dubbed 'the dojo'.

Standing for extended periods on only one foot and on top of the tall poles was an exercise that Splinter had created to teach his four sons the importance of balance…which, was becoming all too clear to Raphael.

"Look, your **_highness_**," Raph gritted between his clenched teeth, "you try doin' this."

"I am," Leo smirked confidently.

"No…you're _not_!" Raph seethed again, gnashing his teeth as he wobbled and weaved on his one foot. "Not with what **I** have to do it with."

"Hey, it's your fault, you shouldn't have challenged Don." Leo shrugged, going back to his balancing act.

Currently, Splinter was out of the room, taking a nature break, as Mikey liked to put it, and giving his sons the opportunity to discuss Raphael's situation.

"MY fault? Hey, _he_ cheated," Raph glared, and then found his balance almost giving way, forcing him to windmill his arms around in order to regain his composure. As his swaying lessened and as he found his 'inner center' once again, his other brother replied defensively.

"I did not cheat, Raph; I never cheat." Don said seriously. "You just shouldn't have bet against me." He went back to focusing on the task-at-hand, the thirty-minute exercise of standing on one foot nearly completed.

Mikey's voice then sounded out next, "He's right, Raph, you really shouldn't have bet…" but he was suddenly interrupted.

"Hey, _shell-for-brains_, I didn't ask fer yer opin'yun, so zip it." Raph snapped. His forceful words, again, caused him to weave just a little as his balance, once again, came into question. "Stupid exercise!" he grumbled under his breath.

"Hey, it's not stupid," Leo exclaimed, "Maybe you your bet was stupid! You should have thought long and hard about the penalty for losing."

"I DID think long and hard about it and I was CERTAIN Don would LOSE!" Raph growled. "How was I t'know this wasn't The Best of Jeopardy week." He mumbled as he glowered over at his purple-banded brother, "How was I t'know it was a new show. That's why you cheated!" he said a little louder.

"Don didn't cheat, Raph, you just forgot what week this was," Leo explained, as he defended his brainy brother. "In fact, you were the one who cheated, or was planning to, anyway, that is if you were counting on already knowing the answers."

"He's right, Raph, after all…" Donnie tried to interject as a matter of factly, but was immediately cut off by a simple, _'I'll kill you right where you are'_ glare from his red-banded brother. The one in purple immediately pressed his lips together and ceased any more comments.

"Well, just the same," Leo remarked as he sniffed indignantly, "You got what you deserved. You were planning to cheat by watching what you thought was a rerun of the show. You counted on knowing the answers, thereby hoping to out-guess Don."

Mike laughed, "As if _that_ was even possible – even with a rerun!"

"Mike, so help me, you say one more word and I'll stuff these things down your throat!" Raphael threatened as he pointed to his foot.

Holding his hands up in defense, the youngest brother looked over at Raph's feet and then begged for mercy, soon going back to his exercise, and becoming as silent as a church mouse.

Just then, Master Splinter came into the dojo from the hallway. He walked over to stand before his four sons, thereby garnering their attention, He then bowed low before them.

"My sons, by my estimation, it has been thirty minutes."

The foursome remained on their one foot, mindful that the exercise wasn't quite over until their father announced it thus.

Finally, the rat bowed, saying as he did, "Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo – you three may step down."

Three green heads bowed low in reply, returning their air-born foot alongside the one on the post. Then – as one – all three brothers executed a clean back flip, landing neatly onto the concrete floor of the dojo behind their individual posts.

"Hey, what about _me_, sensei?" Raph complained worriedly, his one foot remaining steadfast on the post, while the other one hovered next to it in mid air. Perspiration glistened his forehead and arms, the stress of his augmented exercise proving quite tedious.

"As for you, Raphael," the rat said evenly as he folded his arms across his chest, "because you were planning on cheating to win this ridiculous bet, you will remain on the post for another ten minutes and in the same fashion as you have during the past half hour." He heard his disgruntled son grouch under his breath, so Splinter added as a side note, "Maybe, through this exercise, you will learn your lesson about cheating AND betting."

"Yeah, Raph," Mike guffawed, "betting that the loser has to wear five inch heels during the next practice session wasn't such a good idea!"

"How was I t'know it'd be THIS exercise!" Raph growled, whirling his arms yet again as his balance wavered, soon recovering, and then glaring at Don, who then smirked as he followed his other two brothers out of the dojo.

"One must never assume victory, Raphael, otherwise one will lose," Master Splinter instructed.

"You can say THAT again, Sensei," his son grumbled miserably.

"Besides, Raphael," Splinter added with a barely concealed grin, "One must always be master of his environment, even if they find themselves wearing a pair of women's shoes!"

Much to Raph's dismay, the snickering and laughs that echoed in from the hallway, as his brothers departed for the living room, did nothing to lighten his mood.

"Gonna pound Mike the next time he brings home anything resembling women's wear," Raph growled to himself, "They must all be nuts to walk in these things." As his stiletto-encased foot wobbled again for the umpteenth time, Raph knew that, once he was done with the exercise, he was going to need a good long soak in the tub. "I swear, I jus' know I'm nevah gonna walk the same again!"


End file.
